One Long Night
by obliviousworlds
Summary: "It's not his fault," Dean says, killing the silence in the dark motel room when Sam's snoring fills the room. "I know it isn't," John tells him and runs a hand over his face. This was gonna be a long night. Sick!Sam. oneshot. set sometime in season 1.


It's been a long night. That's all John can think about as he lays in the darkness of the motel room. It's raining hard outside, the rain pelting above him and making it even harder for him to fall asleep.

They need to be up early, but a glance at the clock tells him that's not going to happen. It's blinking one a.m. right back at his face, as if it's taunting him that he's not going to get much sleep.

He glances over at his oldest in the other bed, Dean's got himself propped up with one hand behind his head, looking straight ahead and letting his mind wonder off. Sam's in the bed with him, asleep and sick, his snoring keeping the both of them awake.

Sam should have never gone on the hunt earlier that night. Him getting thrown around by a poltergeist in the house they were investigating not helping his cold by any means. By the time they got back to the motel, Sam was even more miserable and passed out in bed a few minutes later.

It's not like John can get mad about Sam's snoring. It's not the boy's fault his nose is stuffed up and that he can't breathe through it. John is just exhausted and wants to get some sleep before the sun comes up.

He glances back over at Dean again and sighs. This is gonna be an even longer night then he hoped.

"It's not his fault," Dean says, killing the silence in the dark motel room.

"I know it isn't," John tells him and runs a hand over his face. "Should have picked him up something at the walgreens when we passed it. My fault."

Dean nods and continues to let his mind wonder.

"Does it not bother you?" John asks, bringing him back to the present and making him look over at him.

He shrugs. "It's not the first time this has happened. I've lost plenty of sleep being up all night with a sick Sam before. It's no big deal, I'm used to it." He says and glances down at said sick brother laying next to him.

_I'm used to it._ It echos in John's mind over and over. This is something _he _should be used to.

"He still got a fever?" John asks.

Dean let's his hand travel down and sets it on Sam's forehead, then placing the back of it on Sam's cheek. He nods after a moment. "Yeah, but it's not worse or anything."

"He's warm right? I mean, he's got enough blankets doesn't he?"

Dean chuckles a bit before turning his head back over to his father. "Yeah, he's got his arms under me too."

John squints his eyes at him, confused by what he was just told. "What? Are you _laying_ on them?"

Dean nods. "I tried pushing him away, but he just kept snuggling even closer. He's got the chills from the cold, well, not anymore etleast." He explains and rolls his eyes while smiling.

John shakes his head before smiling himself. "Crazy kid."

Dean let's out a hiss a minute later, causing John to look over at him with a worried expression.

"What's wrong? Dean, did you get hurt tonight and not tell me? God damnit how many times do I have to tell you that you need to tell me when your hurt!" John snaps before sitting up on the bed and making an attempt to grab the first aid kit.

Dean puts his hand up and shakes his head. "No, I'm not hurt. Sam just shoves his cold ass feet up against my legs. Feels like I've got ice blocks laying on my legs."

John sighs of relief when he finds out that's all it is, but he wouldn't put it past Dean to hide an injury from him.

"Why are his feet cold? He's got a fever and he's under a blanket." He points out, confused by the situation.

Dean scoffs. "Sam's feet are _always _cold. I try and put socks on him in the middle of the night when he's asleep, and they get kicked off by the morning," He says and shrugs. "I try, and I fail."

John laughs again because he can actually _see _him doing that.

"Anyways," Dean goes on saying, "Whenever we have to share a bed, this is what he does. Although he's not always sick when we have to."

John glances back at the clock and sighs when it reads one thirty. Neither one of them are gonna be getting any sleep.

"It's okay dad, we can afford to take a day or two off," Dean tells him when he sees what's got him so nervous.

John nods. "I guess your right."

"I'm _always _right."

"Don't push it, Dean."

Dean smirks but his attention quickly falls on Sam when the youngest Winchester starts coughing in his sleep. Dean sits him up by grabbing him under the arms, waving his dad off when he tries to help.

"I got him."

John backs off and returns to his spot on his own bed, watching as Dean rubs circles on Sam's back as he continues to cough. His eyes are half open, but John knows Sam isn't awake or even alert enough to tell what exactly is going on.

"Here," Dean whispers softly and puts a glass of water that was sitting on the bedside table up to his brother's mouth. "Take a few sips."

After Sam swallows a few sips of water, his eyes widen a little before he glances around the room, more alert then he's been in the past few minutes.

"Deed? Wassit?" He mumbles looking sleepily at his brother, sniffing hard by all the mucus in his nose. "Hey, dad." He mumbles and gives him a little smile.

"Hey, Sammy." John says and smiles back.

Sam turns his attention back to his brother. "Deed, wassit?" He repeats, sniffling all over again.

"It's okay," Dean assures him, not even bothering to decode what he just asked. "It's time for you to take some more tylenol, so just stay awake for another minute, okay?"

John searches through the first aid kit until he finds a packet of tylenol and hands it over to his oldest. Dean breaks it open and hands them over to Sam, who swallows them with another sip of water.

"Sleep?" Sam asks after a few moments, head lolling on his shoulders. "Now?"

Dean laughs a bit before nodding. "Yeah, Sammy. Go back to sleep."

John's heart warms when Sam lays his head on his brother's chest and snuggles up closer to him. It's probably one of the sweetest things he's seen in a while.

"His arms are under me again," Dean says and shakes his head before letting out another hiss. "Cold feet against my legs too."

"Goodnight, Dean." John says while laughing, laying back down himself. Maybe Sam won't snore anymore and they all can get a good nights sleep.

A few minutes later, that dream is crushed when Sam's soft snoring goes back to filling up the motel room.

"It's not his fault," Dean says again when John slams his fist down against his mattress.

"I know," John repeats and looks back over at the clock again. Two a.m.

_This is gonna be a long night, _he thinks and gives off another sigh. He glances over again and sees Dean staring off straight ahead again, running his fingers through Sam's hair. Still not bothered by the lack of sleep he's getting. His patience obviously more advanced then John's.

Outside the rain is still coming down, every few minutes lightening flashes through the window and the curtains sheilding it. He's glad his boys are in a warm motel room, even if Sam's sick and is keeping both him and Dean up all night, it's worth it.

"It'll be okay dad," Dean says, fingers still running through Sam's hair.

"Yeah," John agrees and nods to himself. "This'll be okay. For a little while."

* * *

Fin :)


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